


Michael in the Bathroom

by mirandawrites



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But then he fixes it, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Insecure Michael, Jeremy is a dick, M/M, Michael Needs a Hug, Michael in the Bathroom, Michael-centric, Panic Attacks, Sad Jeremy, Sad Michael, boyf riends - Freeform, jeremy comes back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 20:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirandawrites/pseuds/mirandawrites
Summary: Michael felt a panic attack coming on, but he didn't know what to do. The only person who could ever talk him down from one didn't want anything to do with him. So he just sat on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, and let the wave of anxiety wash over him.Just another angsty Michael in the bathroom fic that nobody asked for.





	Michael in the Bathroom

"Get out of my way!" Jeremy snarled. "You loser."

Michael barely felt himself get shoved into the bathtub as Jeremy walked out the door, because the pain of being called a loser by his best friend of 12 years was overwhelming.

He heard the door slam and the realization set in that he'd been abandoned by his buddy at the biggest party of the fall. He was alone in the bathroom, and he doubted anyone would notice if he ever came out or just disappeared all together. He took a shaky breath and squeezed his eyes shut.

_It was the squip. It wasn't Jeremy. It wasn't him._

He kept repeating that to himself, but part of him believed every word the squip said to him. Jeremy would be better off without him, he's nothing but a fucking stoner and a loser.

He'd lost track of how long he'd been in there, alone in the bathroom at a party, sitting on the edge of the bathtub and holding back tears. Someone loudly knocked on the bathroom door.

"No you can't come in!" He shouted, his voice cracking. He looked down at his hands, where his nails had dug so hard into his palms that he was bleeding, and suddenly the tears started rolling down his cheeks. Oh god, he _was_ a loser.

He resorted to picking at the grout on the bathtub instead of drawing more blood, his hands shaking slightly. He could feel his breath quickening as he tried to stop crying, but all that did was make him cry harder. He'd have to wait it out alone in the bathroom until his face was dry, then blame his bloodshot eyes on weed or something in his eye.

From outside the door he hears a drunk girl singing along to Whitney Houston, but instead of laughing like he usually would, he feels like his heart was ripped out and he sinks to the floor sobbing, knees drawn to his chest, because usually he would make fun of her with Jeremy.

**_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_ **

Oh god, whoever's out there is gonna start to shout at him soon, but Michael couldn't move from that spot beside the bathtub.

_**KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK** _

"I'll be out soon!" He called out, trying to sound composed, but he could barely get the words out.

**_KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK_ **

Michael felt a panic attack coming on, but he didn't know what to do. The only person who could ever talk him down from one didn't want anything to do with him. So he just sat on the floor, knees drawn to his chest, and let the wave of anxiety wash over him.

_**KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK** _

His whole body was shaking, and he was sobbing silently, hyperventilating alone in the bathroom of a party. His chest felt like it was going to implode. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing the feeling would go away.

**_CLANG, CLANG, CLANG, CLANG_ **

The knocking was getting louder and louder, and Michael couldn't move. He could only sit and cry and shake and feel the pressure building up inside his head and lungs. He could barely feel anything. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

**_BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG_ **

It felt like someone was holding his throat closed. He couldn't breathe at all, and nobody was around to help. Nobody cared enough to help. If he died right here, nobody would even notice.

**_SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH, SPLASH_ **

He felt someone throw a handful of water into his face, snapping him out of the panic attack. Michael looked up to see Jeremy kneeling in front of him, tears rolling down his face.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. "I tried everything else, but I know that always works."

"How did you get in here?" Michael choked out.

"I broke the doorknob off." Jeremy said. "I had to make sure you were ok after... god, I feel like such an asshole."

"Coming here was a mistake." He whispered, not meeting eyes with Jeremy. "I wish I stayed at home in bed watching cable porn or I fucking offed myself instead or I was never born at all."

"Don't say that Michael." Jeremy said, his voice shaky. He grabbed Michael's hand, squeezing it hard. Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Of course, fucking Jeremy knows exactly what he needs during a panic attack. "Please don't say that."

"Why not?" Michael said loudly, almost yelling. "You'd be better off without me. I'm just Michael who's a loner, so he must be a stoner, rides a PT Cruiser, god he's such a loser! I'm just Michael having a fucking panic attack at a party in the bathroom by himself!" Michael was full on sobbing at this point. He'd begun hyperventilating and he could tell he was about to start panicking again.

"Stop it, Michael, please!" Jeremy yelled, grabbing Michael's other hand. "You have no idea how much you mean to me Michael! God dammit I wish I hadn't said what I did, I didn't mean it. I love you so much Michael, you don't understand. You're my best friend. I don't care what the fucking squip says, I don't think I could _live_ without you."

Hearing Jeremy say those things only made Michael cry harder, but with relief. Jeremy didn't hate him. He still had the one good thing that made his life worth living, that helped him push through all the shit that he goes through. Jeremy dropped Michael's hands and slowly pulled Michael toward him. A broken, heart-wrenching sob tore itself from Michael's chest as Jeremy pulled him close. He wrapped his arms around Jeremy's shoulders, pulling him into a crushing grip and Jeremy's arms wrapped around Michael even tighter, as if he was trying to hold the broken boy together. Burying his face into the Jeremy's chest, Michael sobbed until he felt like he didn't any tears left.

"I'm sorry." Jeremy mumbled, as Michael clung to his shirt and cried. "I'm so sorry Michael."

"Then why would you say that." Michael whispered. He watched Jeremy's eyes fill with tears and he immediately regretted saying anything at all.

"You don't know what it's like having this thing in my head." He choked out. "It's screaming at me, controlling me, and..."

He glanced down at his arms and for the first time, Michael noticed small, star shaped burns peeking out from under his friend's sleeves. The squip was _hurting_ him. Michael took both of Jeremy's hands in his own, hoping to bring his friend the same comfort that he'd brought Michael.

"I don't know what to do." Jeremy sobbed.

"We'll get rid of it." Michael whispered. "I promise, we'll get rid of it, together."

"How?" Jeremy choked out.

"I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Okay?" Michael pulled his friend into another tight hug. "We'll figure it out. It's just another two-player game."

**Author's Note:**

> Stupid cheesy ending line whoops lmao.


End file.
